


I've Got You

by lady_wonder



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dragon Age Fusion, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, College, Dragon Age Lore, F/F, Ferelden, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Kissing, Morrigan is afraid of storms because reasons, Rain, Storms, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and Leliana is a manic pixie girl dream but we already knew that, morriana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8417281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_wonder/pseuds/lady_wonder
Summary: Why does September seem sunny as spring?
Morrigan is caught in the rain, until Leliana gets her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a Dragon Age college AU, where Morrigan and Leliana are teenage students at the University of Ferelden. There's some big ideas behind it, developed between mortiphasm and I, but this is my favorite piece to have so far materialized.
> 
> Again, amazing art contribution and inspiration from [mortiphasm](http://mortiphasm.tumblr.com/). Originally posted on [my Tumblr](http://lady-wonder.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20writing).

  
_art by[mortiphasm](http://mortiphasm.tumblr.com/), used with her permission, do not steal _

 

* * *

 

_I’ve got you_ , the redhead says, holding the door open. For me. I realize she’s holding it open for me as she meets my eyes, smiling brightly, and gestures gently to the outside, where the summer heat and glistening wind and the cloudless sun suddenly pale in comparison to her. It is enough to stun me, lingering long enough that it becomes awkward, that my feet don’t understand the opened door and the fact that all I’m supposed to do is walk out, that my body isn’t supposed to come to a jarring halt at this girl’s presence, stuttering and stammering and—something, somewhere, thudding unusually hard.

But the redhead doesn’t seem to notice my embarrassing daze, only smiling more at me. For me. Unable—unwilling—to tell the difference between the two, I grumble something resembling a thank you and hurry outside, thrown back out into the day that now holds me painfully out of place.

_I’ve got you_ , she tells me, reaching for my phone on the floor. It is not so long after she held the door open but still close enough that I remember her vividly, have seen her around campus, walking with friends, her melodic laughter cresting above the other tedium and infusing the air with what could only be called magic, distracting and bothersome and annoyingly beautiful. Her laughter is all I could think about for days, hearing it twirl again in my ears as she grabs my phone—happens to me all the time, she laughs, surprised I haven’t broken it yet with all the times I’ve dropped it—and with a careful review, she assures me that mine should be fine as well.

When she goes to hand it back to me, our fingers touch and I think—I swear—she has cast a spell on me. Lightning fractures through my skin and jolts my heart to life, like saving me from the verge of death. Panicked, I look up at her, my phone now held so tightly in my fist that my knuckles are white; she stares back at me, unassuming. When she smiles at me again and turns away, I know she has set a curse upon me, she has done _something_ to me, something is _wrong_ , as I want nothing more than for her to keep her eyes on me.

_I’ve got you_ , she promises, the familiar words so close to my face that I can feel each lilt and curve of tongue heat my cheeks against the frigid storm that has abruptly descended on our small campus. At first, I think she will produce an umbrella from her bag of tricks, still a force of mystery that I am wary of, but instead, she tugs off her jacket and fluffs it out, reaching it up over both of our heads so the thick cloth shields us from the weather. I still have inches that are splattered and soaked with the torrential downpour, not prepared for the rain as I walked from one building to another, but the cool wet has nothing on the rapid warmth that blossoms in my chest and blooms outward through my limbs, like something sweet and fragrant has sprouted inside of me.

It is enough to leave me sneering; I want to feel nothing but contempt at her bright smile and melodic laugh and red hair, but the fact that I _don’t_ , I distinctly _do not_ feel contempt or disdain or even dislike for her, makes me sneer even harder, fermenting the expression into my face as though carving it permanently into stone.  

“Morrigan.” Her voice startles me—I didn’t even knew she knew my name, but—I still can’t help but scowl when I glance up at her, huddled together beneath her jacket. “Why do you look so angry with me all the time?”

I have no desire to answer, but her eyes—bright blue in this gray weather—breach the sanctum of my feelings about this girl and unravel an answer I once had no intention of sharing. Now, I just sigh, shivering slightly from the weather, or so I tell myself. 

“Because,” I eventually say, “you’ve got me, Leliana.”

Leliana blinks. Then, the sun rises within her; bursting from her eyes and the glow of her skin, she is luminescent and untouched by the storm that now seems to dance around her, haloed by the jacket that she holds above our heads, undeterred. She leans in closer to me, connecting the current of energy and warmth that I’ve been wanting—dreaming of—to even just reach a fragment of to graze her spirit. And she tilts her head forward so that our foreheads almost touch and smiles at me. For me.  

“Yeah.” I notice a blush kiss up her cheeks, reddening her freckles. “I’ve got you.”

“Good,” I say out loud and by mistake. I would scold myself, but Leliana’s deepening blush makes it—and everything else—worth it. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm laughing at clouds_   
>  _So dark up above_
> 
> Morrigan brings Leliana back to her place to weather the storm. Then, the power goes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is set in a Dragon Age college AU, where Morrigan and Leliana are teenage students at the University of Ferelden. This scene wasn't originally tied to the previous one, but I revised it so it could relate; as a result, there might be some tense/pronoun errors (I went from third-person past tense to first-person present tense, dear god). 
> 
> This is for [DWeber](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DWeber/pseuds/DWeber) and [Sam_jj94](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_jj94/pseuds/Sam_jj94), who were awesome enough to check this out and leave a comment wanting more. This fluff is all your fault.

The evening breaks with a flash of lightning, overwhelming the bleak skies with rain. It comes down in sheets, curtaining off the small reprieve at my dormitory door; in the seconds of debate, I face the gray walls of water, then turn back to the sunlit eyes of the redhead. With another crash of thunder, we huddle inside.

The lights start to flicker just as I try for some semblance of comfort; I hear the pups stirring beyond my closed bedroom door, scratching and sniffing at the humans they know are there, but my attention is too drawn to overhead bulb in the main room, gazing upward and watching it stutter and hiss and struggle against the storm. Lightning snaps outside. Silently, I count the seconds between one strike and the impending next, trying to get a feel for where the weather wishes to rage, and then—

Thunder bursts from all around, crashing against the dormitory walls, determined to crush. The lights wane, then pop out of existence, defeated. A chill scurries up my back, and I go very still in the center of the room.

A slow, shuffled figure comes up behind me. "It's okay," Leliana whispers, words warm like honey. She rests her hand on my shoulder, the gentle squeeze sending another type of storm through my bones. "I've got you."

The phrase that started it all—the one that somehow forced and dragged an invitation out from my lips, asking Leliana over, just until the rain passes, my dorm is right over there, it wouldn't be a problem—but it's a _big problem_. Tension snakes down my spine, locking my limbs in an iron grip. "We are without power," I finally hiss, though it comes out more as a murmur. "And now you are _stuck_ here. There is nothing okay with this right now."

"Shh," Leliana coos. "Come here, sit." She carefully guides me to the nearby loveseat, setting me down before crouching behind. I start to turn my head, searching for her shadow, but then her voice is there, tickling my ear. "Are you afraid of storms, Morrigan?"

It's a gentle question, but it still burns, as though her words had been dipped in molten lava, sluggish and sweltering, churned until glinting like the sunlight, sending fiery shocks through my body. It's enough to make me jerk, defensive—but as soon as I shift, my nose brushes against Leliana's hair, faces only inches apart in the darkness, and her scent overwhelms my senses, gnawing on their finely-honed edges. I want to scowl—want to yank myself back and escape, preferring the black distance to _this_ , even if it means being closer to the storm—but instead, I only shiver.

Leliana smells like flowers, the kind she would dance through and cup in her soft hands, while some fluff piano piece plays in the background. Her hair this close is like pressing my nose right up to a flower's bud, yellowing skin with its pollen, breathing in the first sign of life after a frozen winter.

"Morrigan?" Leliana's voice resurfaces me from my stupor, another squeeze startling my shoulder. "Don't be scared. The storm will pass soon—"

Affronted, I croak, "I am not scared!" My tongue is thick in my mouth, leaving the words weak and not at all as annoyed as I would've liked. "I just—do not appreciate these circumstances."

Leliana laughs, melodic and sweet, returning the haze of the field of flowers to my memory. "It can't be helped. If the tables were turned, you know, it wouldn't do well on my conscience to leave such a pretty girl out in this weather, especially considering your vanity."

I sneer. "It appears you have gotten to know me too well if you take my vanity into account."

"I confess," Leliana sighs, dramatic, "you would be too beautiful for me to ignore in a rainstorm." Then, her hand on my shoulder turns from a gentle squeeze to a measured knead, fingers slow and gentle as they begin to massage.

I should back away, refuse her empathy, do _something_ —but Leliana is far too close to deny, and it quickly becomes rather unsettling at how comfortable I grow, as though easing back into my skin, melting against the softness of Leliana's touch, sinking into the dark sensations of mellow warmth to where I almost feel boneless, eager to be reshaped by the redhead's wonderful hands. The steel that normally feeds and ferments beneath my flesh simmers away, and I relax against the cushions of the seat, giving into the stormy shadows that are drowned out by Leliana's presence. She feels so _good_ —smells so _magnificent_ —it is like being put under a spell, leaving me vulnerably and wholeheartedly entranced.

A crash of lightning punctures the night, light splintering against the dormitory windows. Above our heads, electricity buzzes and flashes back into the bulbs, startling the room with reality, then immediately burn out again, a bellow of thunder laughing at the attempt. It is finally enough to make me weakly clear my throat.

"I should—" I swallow, cautiously pulling away from Leliana's fingers. "—light some candles? There are some in the pantry…"

Leliana seems to stir awake as well, stumbling up from behind the seat. "Oh, that would be the sensible thing, no? But—don't get up!" I hear her start to feel her way back into the kitchen, groping the cabinets, laughing quietly when she bumps into the door. A subtle light then pours from her hand, using her phone as a guide. "I've got this!"

But even with her brief departure, I cannot shake off the tugs and twists on my senses, all urging me toward the redhead. It is compelling, dangerously gripping my stammering pulse; left in the shadows, all I can feel is the insatiable desire to reach out for another, the glowing silhouette of Leliana just within my grasp.

I stand. "Let me help you." And I brave the darkness to find her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What a glorious feeling_
> 
> Morning arrives. With Leliana curled up beside her, Morrigan knows she is doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is set in a Dragon Age college AU, where Morrigan and Leliana are teenage students at the University of Ferelden. And, like before, I tweaked this little scene to tie into the previous chapters, once again adjusting my tenses and pronouns. Apologies for any awkwardness, but hopefully the cuteness makes up for it!
> 
> And Morrigan harbors mabari puppies. Because.

The pillow dimples under the gentle weight of her head, wild strands of red hair splayed along the soft fabric and slowly brushing forward to sweep across her face. One tickles her nose and makes her face twitch, a bloom of sleepy embarrassment rising in her freckled cheeks—as though a little aware someone is watching. But then she sighs, a _shhhh_ of contentment slipping from the small gap between her pink lips, making those same wisps of fiery hair dance with ease.

And then she tugs on the purple blanket—the one that had been wordlessly swathed around her pale, gangly limbs not long after she had nodded off—and pulls it up to her chin. With the white pillow haloing her red crown, purple gown keeping her warm, she almost looks like royalty, a queen fit for a sleepy throne—but her tiny feet poke out at the bottom hem, and her small toes wiggle and curl in tune to her slumbering breaths, dreaming of something sweet and melodic and not at all dignified, like dancing barefoot in the rain.

 _Silly_ , I think to myself. Leliana curled up on my couch hours ago, subdued by the fatigue of the raging storm and flickering lights, and I let her drift off, tucked at the opposite end, just inches from her feet.

"Silly," I whisper aloud, softly, and with only a fragment of the vitriol normally poured into my voice. _It is too early for such nonsense_.

Sometime in the night, between the residual thunder and bleating rain against the windows, I closed my eyes too. I dreamt of hazy music and billowing shadows, clouding my senses, until someone touched my hand. It wasn't until the rising sun peered through the blinds that I looked to see one of my mabari pups licking my fingers.

 _How did you even get out_ , I wondered, panic blearily rearing its head—pets weren't allowed in campus dorms, but _screw that_ came quickly after my dog from home had an unexpected litter and Mother wasn't about to take care of them. Illegally, I housed them in the bedroom that was meant for a roommate; whoever had been assigned to me at the beginning of the semester— _Isabela something?_ —had kindly never shown up, leaving me with enough space to raise my canine babies without much fuss.

Now, all six of them lay in different positions around the main room, a trail of snoring pups stretching from the chewed-open bedroom door to where I sit beside Leliana on the couch. The whining one, Merlin, has become entranced by Leliana's naked toes. When I go to tug the blanket over them, just so her wiggling can stop distracting me, he quirks his head and paws at my hand—as though protective of his newfound friend and wary of if I act with good intentions.

I scowl. _Ignoring how I am the one raising you, blast it all_. But, the pup doesn't quite know how to growl menacingly yet, not when faced with my sneers, and simply issues a furrowed brow instead.

"What are you looking at?" I finally demand, though its charge is lost in the whisper I still keep my voice in.

Quietly, Merlin whines. He tilts his head and licks Leliana's toes, inspiring a dreamy giggle from the girl. It is enough to send my heart into my throat.

I take a moment, then swallow hard, looking back at my pup—the damn dog was always smarter in the end—and feel my body go slack.

Released, resigned, I sigh, "Yeah. Me too," and accept that I am doomed.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sun's in my heart_   
>  _And I'm ready for love_
> 
> Finally, Morrigan and Leliana embrace their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is set in a Dragon Age college AU, where Morrigan and Leliana are teenage students at the University of Ferelden. And, again, I tweaked this little scene to tie into the previous chapters, once again adjusting my tenses and pronouns. Though this one barely connects, other than just acting as a culmination of their romance. 
> 
> It also lived up to its pg-13 rating. Oh my. Enjoy!

Leliana tastes like strawberries, as red as the braids in her hair.

I lick up every delicious inch while tangling my fingers through the soft, short strands, too lost to consider my composure. Even when Leliana giggles, I refuse to wane; I only growl and kiss harder, greedily exploring the warm curves of Leliana's mouth with my tongue. I swallow the redhead's laughter; I nip at the pleasure that crinkles around her lips and blossoms heat into her cheeks. It sparks a fire in my brain and blinds my senses until they're drowning in crimson, and it is sensational.

I have never savored something so _fucking_ sweet. I never knew how much I thirsted for it until now.

Desire trickles down from my frayed thoughts and pushes through my body like molten lava, forcing my hands to move, to feed the hunger that gnaws at my fingertips. I'm just moments away from touching Leliana, ghosting around the dips and lengths of her chest, when she laughs— _dammit, again_ —and grabs my hands into her own, pressing them firmly against her breasts. I choke—gasp—pull back from Leliana's mouth, so hot that I can barely breathe through the flames—and Leliana makes it only worse by tilting her head into the crook of my neck, dotting my skin with soft, easing kisses. It would be demeaning if it weren't so soothing, as Leliana nuzzles against my hard edges. I melt; I cannot help myself.

My hands are still pressed against Leliana's breasts, with her holding tight as though knowing how terrified I am, and that renders me all the more— _what_ , embarrassed? Helpless? Wanting? But other than keeping my hands close, Leliana is not forcing me to go any further; if I want to touch, want to move, want to _feel_ , I have to do it myself. The thought, the sensation, makes my flesh burn.

Slowly, fabric fades away, leaving flawless, pale expanses of skin in its wake, freckles peppered along every smooth inch, a dazzling array unfurled across Leliana's naked breasts as they swell and redden. She is so slender but she feels so full in my palms, and I have to— _I have_ _to_ —

I squeeze—kneading gently—needing desperately—and Leliana _moans_.

**Author's Note:**

> Once more, thank you to [mortiphasm](http://mortiphasm.tumblr.com/) for helping me develop these ideas; she is wonderful and you should check out her work. And now leave a comment or a kudos as thanks for some delicious Morriana. You're welcome.


End file.
